


Lost in the Rose

by impxrfect



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, this is my own work - Freeform, welp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 06:12:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9587489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impxrfect/pseuds/impxrfect
Summary: I wrote this short story for a Literature class I have. That's about it. I wrote this last year, and now there's a movie about it?? I'm kind of tripped out





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Thanks for checking me out. ;-)

    It was April 4th, 2015 the day I first died. The forecast was nothing spectacular, either, being as it was scorching hot every day in Malibu, California. As usual, Max Blackburn was throwing one of his “Famous Friday Fiestas,” celebrating nothing but the end of the week. I had amazingly been invited to this party by the man himself to attend on Monday in the library, where I usually sat at lunch. Max had come in, guns a ‘blazing, with his group of thugs behind him, asking if I would like to go to his party this Friday night. It took me bribing my step-parents into letting me go in exchange for doing all the household chores for 8 weeks, but I still got permission. At the time, I thought it was so worth it. Now? Not so much. a

My friend, Mario, was the first individual to hear about my invitation to the most popular party of the year. He had heard that almost all the seniors, including some outcasts like myself, except him, had been invited. When news came out that people from the Pro-Math and Drama Club had been invited, it raised some suspicions, but I shot them all down with the fact that he hadn’t even liked going to parties, and he shut up after that.

When the school day ended, I walked home to my step-parent’s house, and on the way there I passed by a bush of dark crimson roses. I looked at the bush in confusion. Breaking my train of thought, my friend Gabe raced towards me at record speed.

“So, big guy, you finally got invited?” Gabe said, out of breath.

“Well, yeah. Who’d you hear it from?” I replied. Gabe wasn’t exactly in my friend group, per say, but he was a nice guy at times. Occasionally, we hung out because of his sister Anna, and my step-sister, Charlie. Other than that, we were mere acquaintances.

Gabe rolled his eyes, “Sam, of course. Who else would?” Sam was his girlfriend of four years, an athlete, and scholar, but also quite annoying. She once poured out all of the water from my opaque water bottle and refilled it with lemon dish soap. The couple was a nightmare to behold when together.

     I didn’t know how to respond, so I just shrugged my shoulders in a dismissive manner. It wasn’t really a big deal, seeing as I was not about to jump up the social ladder just because of one little party. Gabe obviously did not.

“Well, if you even do go to the party, wear something… you wouldn’t miss if it were to get ruined.” As Gabe said this, a sly grin crept onto his face, and he turned around. Sam was waiting for him by the doors of the middle school, which was about a block from our school, where her little brother, Dean, goes. As he turned to go, he sent me a smile that had me shivering with anxiety, one that sent shivers down my spine.

During the time that I turned to walk away, I remembered the rose bush. When had that gotten there? I have walked down this sidewalk for the past 4 years and never have I noticed such a beautiful thing. Without giving much thought, I plucked one of the roses from the bush and stuffed it in my pocket.

When I got home, I went upstairs as usual. Normal kids might see their parents and greet them, or tell them all about the Home Economics lab they did that day where one kid exploded his dish before the class could even begin properly. But, my foster parents were at work till 8 pm. My real parents had died when I was a kid in a car crash. I had made it out alive without a scratch, the doctor said I was made of rubber, and since then I have been hopping from foster home to foster home. This home was one of my favorites, considering the fact that I only have one sibling and the parents are gone all day.

“Anna! I’m home!” I yelled down the stairs.

“Yeah, I heard you come in! Charlie is over, we’re going to Max’s party tonight,” she popped her head into her doorway, “Heard you were invited, too. Congrats.” I didn’t answer her as I slammed my bedroom door shut. I needed to find out what to wear to this party, and I was tempted to call the girls in here to help me, but I decided against it, for I would’ve received endless teasing for the rest of my days.

A few hours later, I hopped into my beautiful cobalt blue baby, a 1967 Pontiac Firebird I got for my 16th birthday. My father himself had been a lover of old cars, so when my foster parents gave me the beauty, I was especially excited, because I had inherited that affection. I started the engine and headed off to Max’s house on Selfridge Drive.

Once I got to the party, I couldn’t spot any of my friends at first, so I hunted down one of the geeks invited and they showed me the direction of where they last saw Gabe, who I knew was here by the looks of his car outside, and proceeded to go in the direction he was pointing in. As I was walking through the crowd of seniors and some juniors looking at me weirdly, I caught a glimpse of a young girl, maybe twelve or thirteen.

Frowning in confusion, I went to look for her, only realizing she was headed towards the back door leading out to the pool, which was where the geek had told me where Gabe last was seen. I followed her outdoors and wondered why no one had stopped this girl who might as we've been a seventh grader.

The moment I stepped outside, I understood why most of the people were looking at me weirdly. I had been the only one that was on the weird side of the school in the house. I spotted Anna and Charlie in the crowd of people behind Gabe and Max. Most of the kids who didn’t fit in or didn’t want to fit in, that were invited, were lined up along the perimeter of Max’s giant pool. I looked over their heads and saw the young girl from earlier on top of the water. In disbelief, I stepped closer, which made Gabe turn to look at me.

“Oh, look who’s here, folks! Cas, come here, good man!” Gabe smirked mischievously. I gulped. As I stepped forward, about 20 heads turned towards me, all with panicked faces. Gabe reached forward and, even with his height at 5’4 and my height ending at 6’2, dragged me so I fit into the line of losers against the pool edge. I kept a calm face, but anxiety took over my body. I did not know how to swim, as I had no reason to. Caring and energetic parents were not in the picture at my house in the past, so no one pushed me to learn that certain skill.

The girl was still in the center of the pool, although she looked more holographic and fake than in the house. People glanced around, nervous and afraid. No one seemed to notice the girl in the center of the pool. Before I knew what was happening, a kid from my Algebra II class looked at me in horror, and that was the last thing I saw before chlorine was stung my eyes as I plunged into the depths of the 8 feet deep pool. I struggled to get up above to the air above the surface, but to no avail. The final thing I heard was Gabe, who mentioned in a slightly panicky voice that I was not rising to the barrier between air and water, and the last thing I saw before blackness consumed me was the girl peering down at me from her stance on the waves.

                                                    ~   ~   ~   ~   ~   ~

The only thing I remembered from my supposed dream when I woke up was a girl’s face with black, unruly hair framing a dotted with freckles on her under eyes. Her eyes were a stormy gray, like a storm brewing in the sky, and she stared at me inquisitively. I chalked it up to my brain messing with me because of the nerves that had built up from the party tonight.

I quickly got dressed and ran down the stairs while Anna looked at me curiously.

“Why are you in such a rush? It’s only 7 a.m., dude, it’s too early for your weird games,” Anna groaned out, “And why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

“It’s… nothing.” I said, tiredly. It was probably just a dream about what happened last night, there was no way I could have drowned and been brought back to life.

“Whatever you say, kiddo,” Charlie grinned, “Are you going to the party tonight at Max’s?” She was a good foster-sibling, one of the better of about fifty. Charlie was also younger, and a foot shorter than me, making the phrase ironic.

“I don’t think so, I had a pretty weird dream last night. Don’t want to get jinxed.” I replied. Just to make sure nothing happened like in the dream, I said to myself. Charlie didn’t need to know about how I dreamt my death.

On the way to school, I recall the rose bush from the dream. Sure enough, the bush was there, but there was a rose obviously missing, from where I picked it in my dream. I brushed it off as a weird coincidence, seeing as it was a beautiful rose bush, and why wouldn’t someone pick the roses?

By seventh period, everything that had occurred in my dream had happened so far. Whether it be Mario and Jess fighting over who got the last piece of pizza at lunch, or the girl who slipped on a slippery stair in the dream slipped on the exact same stair. I got a weird sense of déjà vu, but once again played it off as just a very strange dream.

Seventh period was Home Economics, which I looked forward to. It was a fun subject, the thought of mixing chemicals excited me. When I walked through the doorway, I got a weird sense of dread. I noticed the boy in my dream was already here and talking excitedly to his friends. I rolled my eyes and sat down in my arranged-but-not-arranged seating desk and chair, and pulled out my book.

The teacher walked in, and the boys talked on. Mr. Stanley cleared his throat and the boy looked at him before he quickly sat down.

“Good morning, class. As you remember, there is a lab today. I want all of you to get up in an orderly manner,” Mr. Stanley said when the main goofballs went to stand, “And grab an apron. In an orderly manner.” The boys shot up in their seats to be first in line for the clothing protector. I slowly walked to the front of the class where the gear was, and finally got my protection on.

The minute I sat down, an explosion shook the room. I felt heat and smoke begin to make its way to my body and nose. When I turned around, I didn’t know what to expect. There was Jacob, the boy from my dream who had caused a small explosion, and he was covered in the remnants of the explosion. This time, though, there was a fire starting around his table.

“Get water! Get water!” A blonde that I hadn’t really noticed until now shrieked.

“No! No!” shouted Mr. Stanley, but it was already too late. The girl had gone to the cabinets, grabbed a pitcher, filled it with water, and threw it on the fire. The fire happened to be a grease fire, and when she poured the water on the fire, it splashed the too-hot grease, spreading the fire all over the place, including on Jacob’s shirt and my clothes. I was behind Jacob, and saw what he was doing, and tried to correct him before anything else happened.

“Hey, where’s the fire extinguisher?” Another classmate asked. Good question, but it seemed to prove useless. No one knew where it had gone. While everyone was frantically searching, the fire kept spreading, until it surrounded most of the classroom. Someone was desperately typing in questions on how to put out a fire that will not go out with water while others tried to get out of the door. The handle proved to be too hot to touch, so some of the more muscular young guys in our class tried to impress the ladies by kicking down the door, but to no avail. Some girl screamed about dying, but I remembered from countless nights of random internet searches that a grease fire could be possibly put out by baking soda. I tried, but I accidently had grabbed flour instead, without knowing, and it did not work. Mr. Stanley called the school office to report, but there was so much screaming that the principle couldn’t hear a thing.

The world seemed to come crashing down when I realized that I was probably going to die in a stupid school accident. Then, I had a brilliant idea. Why not throw it outside? I picked up the sizzling, now completely on fire pan and went to throw it out the window when the bubbling grease crackled onto my hand. Dropping the pan in pain, I looked around to see if anyone saw what I did. Everyone’s heads were turned toward me. Of course.

People had started to jump out windows, which were on fire, too, and falling out of the second story. I was tempted, but my step-parents would most likely be mad at me, and I did not want to bother them with the medical expenses. It’s not really like I would be missed, but I was being ushered to the window by Mr. Stanley.

“All students to the window, jump in an orderly fashion!” He yelled, loud and clear. I hesitated at the window, before I felt a pushing sensation on my back, and hearing my name being shouted as I fell, feeling like I was being blanketed by the wind. Once again, the last thing I saw was the girl standing at the top of the window before my vision was clouded with black as I hit the ground with impossible pain.

                                                    ~   ~   ~   ~   ~   ~

On the 313th anniversary of my death, I had died in almost every way possible. Ranging from pure stupidity on my part to weird coincidence.

Whether it be slipping on the floor, which apparently lead to brain damage or electrocution with a toaster, I had consequently died about 314 times, and I was getting tired of it. The girl from the party was involved in most of them, if not all, and I still couldn’t figure out who or why she was doing this. Whatever she was doing, it led to me dying, and not everyone can say that they were getting exhausted by death.

Today was an even day, the 313th April 8th, so I ended up going to the party at the end of the day to end my life. A bizarre feeling took hold of me when I walked in, though. It was as if everyone had a secret, and they weren’t telling me.

Only a few times have I actually gone after the girl, after the first few tries I learned that she was just leading me to my death, and I wanted to stretch my life out as long as possible. The girl was easily noticeable to me now, and I felt compelled to follow her on her walk upstairs. As I went to head up the staircase, I got a chill. I turned around, and everything was frozen in time.

“Well, are you coming or not?” said a soft, feminine voice from the top of the steep staircase. I glanced up in surprise.

“You can speak?” I replied as I walked slowly up the stairs to where she waited patiently.

“I have a mouth, I just choose not to use it,” she said. I followed her into a room that I could have sworn was locked, all the times I’ve been in the house I’ve opened every door except that one.

“What’s your name?” I asked, questioningly. Curious as I may be, I had the feeling she knew my name, but I felt it unfair that I did not know hers.

“Braelyn, that’s what they used to call me.” She answered in a voice that told me to not go further on it or to ask who they were. Braelyn turned around with her black hair whipping behind her. She pointed to a clear vase with crimson roses.

“Remember those?” She said. I shook my head.

“Hm. Guess I’ll just have to refresh your memory.” Braelyn picked one of them up and put it in my hand. Within seconds, it disintegrated. When I look up at her, not only is Braelyn gone but so is the room and the ashes of the rose.

                                                    ~   ~   ~   ~   ~   ~

As I looked around, I saw the rose bush, though it was much smaller now. There were still several blooms on the bush, but it looked newly planted. I glanced to my left and saw a vintage car with a young boy, maybe twelve, in the backseat. If you looked close enough you could probably see that he was yelling and the parents in the front were trying to console him from their seats. With both parents heads turned, no visual was on the road. I recognized this car in pictures in old photo albums, long packed up by now. This was my father’s car, and I realize this just as another car crashes into my dad’s vehicle.

                                                    ~   ~   ~   ~   ~   ~

The other car didn’t see how my father’s car was not in motion in time. They tried to break, but it was no use. So, they started honking instead. But, the other car was distracted with their son, who I knew now as me, and didn’t hear the noise. The other car slammed into my father’s car at 65 mph and crushed my parents in the process. It seemed the other person’s car was also crushed, but while the parents had seatbelts and airbags in the front, and were still conscious to clambered out of the totaled car. The parents went to the backseat to get their little girl, but she was crushed in between the two seats, and her car seat had failed to keep her fragile body in place. The boy was fine, a minor concussion, as with the mom. When they went to check on the other car they had rammed into, the parents had bled out already. The boy in the back was still crying for his mother and father, but other than that, he was completely fine. They had just left the pre-school and he had had a rough day with the other kids. Later, at the hospital, they had everyone’s wounds checked. I was now parentless while the other family only lost their daughter. I found this extremely unfair, from my perspective on the side. However, while the father was fine physically, the news of the death of his baby girl crushed him, and he could not stay with his family any longer. He filed for a divorce and the moment he could, he shot out of the hospital like a rocket.

I was stunned. I looked at the pale body of the girl in the hospital bed, announced dead a few seconds ago, and noticed she had the same black hair as the girl I had seen every day since that first April 8th, Braelyn. I bent down to lift her eyelids, and she had the same gray eyes. Was this why she was causing me to die? Did she blame me for her father leaving her mother and brother? And who was her brother? So many questions raced through my brain, and before I knew it I was back in the same room with Braelyn.

“Did you figure out why this has been happening?” Braelyn said quietly.

“I’m beginning to think so.” I replied, “But if it’s for the reason I think it is, that I took everything from you, then you are wrong. The crash took my parents, too. And I’m sorry that you lost your life, but that does not give you the right to keep harassing me over and over again.” Her look of surprise at the mention of my parents made me wonder if she really knew how the consequences of the crash.

“I had no idea… I just thought that--” Braelyn tried to explain, but I interrupted her.

“Yes, I did have a part in the crash, but you cannot say that I walked out of there without a scratch. Sure, I didn’t have any major injuries or death, but I had lost my only connection to my family, ever. Did you ever stop to think about that?” I said to her, angrily. I missed my parents just as much as she missed her family, and here she is selfishly making me pay for a sin I committed years ago that cost me something near and dear to me, too.

“I’m… sorry…Max had been trying to cover it up his sadness, but this year it got to me. He decided to prank all the losers at school, including you, no offense, and it seemed like a good time to punish those accountable for the death of me…So basically I was involuntarily haunting. Great.” Braelyn finished sarcastically.

“Wait, are you saying Max Blackburn is your brother?” I shifted towards her as we sat on, I’ve assumed, her old bed.

“Twin brother, actually,” She blushed, “He lies about his birthday, it’s really on April 4th, but that’s the day I died. So, he changed it to his half-birthday, October 4th. He usually skips, from what I can tell.” I still can’t believe this. The Max Blackburn had a sister? I could never have even thought about him or his parents.

“Okay… but what’s with the roses? I saw the bush on the way to school the first April 8th, and have since only then.” I asked.

“Well, I planted the rose bush there when I was around the age of four, but that symbolized purity and innocence. I had been a flower fanatic and knew what all the flowers and colors meant and symbolized. White meant innocence and purity, but the crash had taken the purity away from them. So, I changed them to dark crimson, which means mourning. It seemed more fitting at the time.” She grinned. I gulped.

“So, what are you going to do now that you know?” I said.

“Well, for starters, pull you out of this loop. Then, can I ask one favor? It’s just to uproot that rose bush and put it… um… by my grave.” The last part she whispers carefully like I wouldn’t want to do it.

    “Sounds like a fair deal.” I said with a grin sprouting on my face.

    “Thank you, I know it’s somewhat a lot to ask for considering what you’ve been through… Everything will be worked out by the morning, you can go home.” She replied with a weak matching grin on her face.

    “No problem, it’s only the least I can do for Max Blackburn’s sister.” I said, chuckling to myself. She blushed.

    “I’ll see you on the flipside, then, Cas?” She said, twirling a piece of hair between her fingers.

“Yeah. Yeah, you will.” I say, and with that, I walked away from her, out the front door of the mansion.

Everything was going to be alright after all.


End file.
